Speak Now
by lawsbian
Summary: The love of Ashley's life is marrying one of Ashley's ex-boyfriends, and she's crushed. Will Ashley speak now or forever hold her peace? ONE SHOT. (Speak now - Taylor Swift)


**AN: Hi, so this idea literally came to me yesterday and I wrote it roughly tonight. I don't know what to think about it. It's basically a Spashley scene, following the song "Speak Now" by Taylor Swift. Comments and thoughts would be awesome! :)**

(_Italics are thoughts, _**bold is lyrics) **

"...have to."

Seriously? It's too early to care about what she has to say.

"Ashley!" She kicks my bed.

"Shut up and go away." I keep my eyes tightly shut and tell her firmly before turning over to my right side, away from her. I pull the covers over my head, shutting out the sunlight she let in. I could punch her if I wasn't so sleepy.

"No! You have to get up. It's already ten! You promised her, Ash." At her final statement, I pull two pillows over my ears in attempt to block out her voice. I don't want to think about today. I don't want to go.

"Ashley!" I hear her shout through the pillows. A second after, she hits my back. Hard.

"Kyla! Shut the fuck up! Her family doesn't even want me there!" I yell at her and sit up abruptly, locking eyes with her. Such boring eyes.

"You promised her. Now, seriously, get up! I will not be late to the wedding because of you!"

I lay back down, facing away again. "Then go without me."

She walks around to be face-to-face with me.

"Do you not understand what a promise is? Get up. I will drag you out of this bed."

I ignore her, so she does just that: she rips the blankets off of me and drags me by my ankles off of my bed. My butt is greeted harshly by the floor. I didn't know she was that strong.

She lets go of me and turns to leave. As she does so, she says "We're leaving at twelve."

I sit there for a few extra seconds, pulling my knees up and hiding my face. I hear her footsteps enter my territory again. Loft or not, my room needs a door desperately.

"Ash, if you still feel something or if you're hurting at all- you need to speak now. Say something. To her." And she walks out for good.

~.~.~.

"Are you kidding me, Ashley?! It's twelve thirty! Get the hell out of the bathroom! If you think you're ditching the-" I open the door she was furiously knocking.

"Let's go," is all she says when I open it and stare blankly at her. We make our way to her car.

"You look pretty, Ash." Kyla tells me a bit after we've began driving to the wedding. I look back at her and she smiles briefly before turning her attention back to the road. As angry as I want to be, because I'm stubborn Ashley, I can't be mad with her; she was right, I did make a promise. Kyla is my voice of reason, always pulling me out of bad situations. She keeps on track. Even if I hated her when I first met her, she is my only sibling and I love her.

"Thanks, Ky. You do, too."

We approach the church parking lot and, fortunately, Kyla finds a space to park pretty easily. Nearly every space is filled, which is odd because she never before mentioned that she wanted a large wedding. I wonder how many people they invited.

As much as I've been trying to push these feelings far back into my mind, as well as this wedding I've been dreading, I'm sad. I'm so, so, so sad to say the least.

A few people are scrambling out of their cars, probably worried about how they're late, too. Kyla exits her side, and I drag myself out of the car, dreading what is going to happen inside. We begin fast walking to the entrance of the church. She opens the door, careful to not be too disruptive. **I am not the kind of girl who should be rudely barging in on a white-veil occasion. **Especially her white-veil occasion.I follow Kyla, avoiding eye contact with anybody around me. Especially the groom.

** _But you are not the kind of girl who should be marrying the wrong guy._**

It's elegant in here, just like her. It's mostly white with a side of red. The isle is even red; she really is a princess. She has always loved red. I wouldn't be surprised if her wedding dress is red. Her wedding. Possibly her only wedding. She has been talking about her wedding for years. She told me it would be white and red.

_If only I was partaking in the white and red wedding._

I follow Kyla to the only seats that seem available. **I sneak in and see your friends and his snotty little family all dressed in pastel.** Kyla leads the way to our seats; they are in the middle of the room, two extra seats closest to the isle. To my displeasure, I'm the one sitting closest to the isle. This means I'm going to be within touching distance of her; I will see her and probably smell her. The scent of the person who was once mine.

My heart is hurting.

I look up and fortunately, he isn't out yet. Isn't he supposed to be? I hear him, though. **He is yelling at a groomsman, somewhere back inside a room**. I can't hear what they're arguing about; probably something stupid because he's stupid. He doesn't deserve her. He doesn't deserve her at all. If I don't, he definitely doesn't.

I knock myself out of my scowl when I see him enter from the door on the left of the stage. Ugh, this is gross. Why am I here? This is torture. He walks lazily to the right of the stage, in front of the pastor, **wearing a tux shaped like a pastry. **He doesn't look like a man who is about to marry the most beautiful girl on the planet. I don't think he knows how lucky and undeserving he is.

He stands there, looking goofy. His posture is horrid and he's moving his balance from side to side awkwardly. He keeps fidgeting with his hands; he looks like he is snapping his fingers, but no sound is coming out. Spencer is going to look too great for him when she comes strolling down the isle. **This is surely not what you thought it would be.**

I turn my head away from him, trying to lose focus on him and this situation. The fact my ex-girlfriend is going to be marrying my ex-boyfriend. The ex-girlfriend who I'm still crazy in love with, and the ex-boyfriend who I never was in love with. Those odds are insane. I thought maybe it could be me, since they're both my exes, but no way. No. Spencer and Aiden do not go together. He is obnoxious and rude and she is polite and graceful. Yes, those are opposites, and opposites attract, but not like this. Me and Spencer are opposites, the right kind of opposites. **I lose myself in a daydream...**

I picture Spencer entering the room from behind me. I watch as her dress sways from side to side; she walks elegantly to the undeserving groom. He smiles at her nervously. She keeps her eyes on him; I wish she was looking at me instead. I could just stand up. Right here, right now. She's walking slowly; she just passes me.

I have time to **stand and say "Don't say yes, run away now. I'll meet you when you're out of the church at the back door. Don't wait or say a single vow. You need to hear me out and they said 'speak now'.**

My eyes come back into focus. I look to my right at Kyla; she looks nervous. I think I know why: I turn around. But Spencer hasn't entered yet. So why does she look so nervous? I face forward again. In the front row, **fond gestures are exchanged**: Mrs. Carlin stands up to hug Mrs. Dennison, who joins her. _Spencer is going to be Mrs. Dennison shortly._ They are smiling with each other, Mrs. C dabbing her eyes with a tissue._ I would be proud, too, Paula. But not for who she chose._

Behind me, **the organ starts to play a song that sounds like a death-march. **I haven't been to many weddings, but I'm sure the introduction doesn't sound like how this old raisin is playing it.

Suddenly, I know what this means. The beat of my heart picks up because it knows what's going to happen next. I avoid the back of the room; Instead, I look ahead and he looks at me. The eye contact is not friendly. **I am hiding in the curtains,** or I'd rather be than sitting here, as **it seems like I was uninvited by your lovely groom-to-be. **

I hear gasps and whispers from around the room. I look around at everybody and they're all looking in the same direction. I know I can't avoid it forever, so I turn around, too: each second she comes closer to me. **She floats down the isle like a pageant queen. **I know she isn't coming for me, she's coming for Aiden. _**But I know you wish it was me. You wish it was me, don't you?**_ No, you probably don't. I will never know, though. Unless I speak now. But I can't ruin your wedding. The wedding you've been dreaming about for years. The wedding I wanted to be wed with you at. The wedding I know you considered me for. I could say it.

_**Don't say yes, run away now. I'll meet you when you're out of the church at the back door. Don't wait or say a single vow, you need to hear me out, and they said 'speak now'. **_

_** Don't say yes, run away now. I'll meet you when you're out of the church at the back door. Don't wait or say a single vow, your time is running out and they said 'speak now'.**_

__My time is running out! Our time is running out. I practice the words in my head over and over. It's now or never. Spencer was happy with me. I was the happiest person in the world with Spencer. I can't live my life without her like how she used to be in it.

I hadn't realized she reached the stage. She is now standing across from Aiden, holding his hands with hers. I should be where he is. This should be mine and Spencer's wedding. Not Aiden's. He isn't loyal. He will never love her as much as I do now.

**I hear the preacher say 'speak now or forever hold your peace'.** I will never have peace if I keep quiet. I can't let her go through with the wedding if, by some insane miracle, she still loves me, too. I look around at everyone's expressions: they are teary-eyed, happy. Nothing like how I am feeling. There's the occasional sniffle or giggle, but otherwise **there's the silence, there's my last chance.** I have to do this. It's worth a shot. I need her. I need her so much.

**I stand up with shaking hands, all eyes on me.** My whole body starts to shake. I'm scared. I'm scared of everybody's reactions, but I'm mostly afraid of rejection or anger from Spencer. She's going to hate me for ruining her wedding. If she does, that will be the end of it then. No more thinking about her, or trying not to.

I look around me in every direction: **horrified looks from everyone in the room. **I try my best to ignore them; **I'm only looking at you.** Your baby blues make contact with my mud pies. It feels different than usual when we talk to each other; I haven't felt this connection in the longest time. It's strange, captivating.

_**I am not the kind of girl who should be rudely barging in on a white-veil occasion. **_I'm rude, but not this rude. And at a wedding! _Come on, Ash: get to it! Quick!_

_**But you are not the kind of girl who should be marrying the wrong boy.**_

__I stand in the isle, the same spot on the same isle Spencer walked down a few minutes ago. I slowly approach her, ignoring the piercing looks from everyone behind or beside me. My legs feel flimsy; I can't let myself fall down now. I've gotten this far. My mouth opens before I can stop myself and out come the words I've been holding back:

**"Don't say yes, run away now. I'll meet you when you're out of the church at the back door. Don't wait or say a single vow, you need to hear me out and they said 'speak now'."**

By the end of my choked up words, I'm almost to the stage. I'm looking up at Spencer now, who has not shifted her eyes away from mine the whole time. She doesn't look angry. She doesn't look particularly sad. What she is, I can't tell. My legs stop at the edge of the stairs, refusing to go up them.

**And you say: "Let's run away now. I'll meet you when I'm out of my dress at the back door. Baby, I didn't say my vows. So glad you were around when they said 'speak now'."**

My hands are in Spencer's now. I hadn't noticed because we kept looking into each others eyes. Her hands feel warm and soft compared to my clammy ones. Is this real? Can this possibly be happening? I hope this isn't another daydream.

She abruptly lets go of my hands and runs behind me. Before exiting the back door, she turns around and smiles at me. She lifts her left arm up and out comes a single pointer-finger, beckoning me forward to her. Her figure swiftly leaves the room.

I keep my eyes on the door and run hard to it, never turning back, running to the love of my life: the love of my life who wants me, too.


End file.
